


Things They Said

by Sarahtoo



Category: Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries
Genre: F/F, F/M, Gen, Other, prompt fics
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-22
Updated: 2016-06-19
Packaged: 2018-06-10 02:04:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 3,646
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6933586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sarahtoo/pseuds/Sarahtoo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A couple of my writing buddies are doing <a href="http://omgimsarahtoo.tumblr.com/post/144658174167/send-me-a-ship-and-one-of-these-and-ill-write-a">this prompt</a>, and we traded before I even reblogged it myself. </p><p>These are gonna be short, likely G-rated (maybe PG), and all kinds of pairings I've never tried before. Wish me luck!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Things you said when we were on top of the world (Jack/Rosie)

_Prompt from meldanya_

She met him at the door with a radiant smile. He kissed her, sweeping her into his arms as he did every day when he returned from work, happy just to see her there. His Rosie was so beautiful, and though they hadn’t yet been blessed with children, he knew that they would be, in time. And they would be just as beautiful as his wife was.

“Did you do it?” Her arms wrapped around his shoulders, she pulled back a little to examine his face. He nodded.

“The papers are signed, and I’ve told Hawken.” His superior hadn’t been happy, but he’d understood.

“When do you leave?”

He gazed down into her bright eyes. She hadn’t been happy either, when he’d spoken to her about this decision, but he knew that it was the right thing to do. He thought she did too.

“Six weeks.” He kissed her again. “I’ll be home in no time, I’m certain of it.”

“Of course you will,” she replied, pressing close to bury her nose in his neck. “It’s only that I’ll miss you terribly.”

“You’ll barely know I’m gone, between your charity work and your card parties.” His smile was tender, and his big hands slid down her back to cup her bottom. “And we can make some extra special memories to tide us both over while I’m away.”

“Oh really?” She giggled quietly, her own hand sliding to the back of his neck to play with the soft short hair there. “And what did you have in mind, Mister Robinson?”

“Well, Missus Robinson, I was thinking that we hadn’t truly christened a few of the spaces in this house yet… like that front corner of the sitting room, and the back wall of the bedroom, and that chair by your vanity…”

She kissed him again, feeling the desire that he always called out of her rising. Her breasts ached with it, and she pressed them close to his chest. She could feel his growing arousal against her stomach.

“The sitting room is closest,” she murmured, pulling away with a smile, her own hand sliding down his chest and around to grip his behind and pull him closer.

“Yes, ma’am,” he’d rumbled, laughing down at her. “And if we’re lucky, I’ll leave you something else to remember me by.” His eyes softened and he laid a hand on her belly, his other arm gripping her around the waist.

Rosie’s laugh pealed out, and she jumped up to wrap her legs around his waist.

“Then we’d better get started, don’t you think?”

Jack grinned, and carrying her, moved into the sitting room—that one corner wasn’t going to shag itself.


	2. Things you said through your teeth (Mac/Leigh)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leigh is an OC of mine who was first introduced in [The Surprise of Being Loved](http://archiveofourown.org/works/4996279). In case, you know, you didn’t know. Or you want to. :D

_Prompt from Fire_Sign_

“Why,” Leigh said, attempting to sound patient, “do you feel the need to keep lab specimens in our refrigerator?” Standing in the doorway between the kitchen and the small parlor, Leigh propped her hands on her hips and surveyed her lover. Mac was sprawled on the couch in her shirtsleeves, her bare feet propped up on one end, holding the latest medical journal open on her chest.

“Hmm?” Mac was absorbed in her reading, and she didn’t look up.

“Mac!” Leigh’s exasperation was obvious in her tone. “Doctor MacMillan!”

Mac started, and turned to face Leigh, her expression quizzical.

“There is a jar of… something disgusting next to my eggs.”

“Oh, yes! It’s a spleen,” Mac turned to sit up on the sofa, setting her magazine aside. Her voice was excited. “I found it during an autopsy yesterday, and as we’d usually throw such things out, I thought it’d be all right to take it in to the school for the students to see. It’s got a remarkable abnormality that they’ll find fascinating.”

“I see. But why is it in our icebox?” Leigh crossed her arms, leveling a serious gaze at Mac.

“Well, it needs to be kept cool or it’ll go putrid before…” Mac seemed to understand the issue. “Ah. Perhaps I should have left it at the morgue, or run it to the school surgery.” She grimaced. “I didn’t think, darling, I’m sorry.”

At Mac’s genuinely apologetic expression, Leigh’s anger slid away. Her belligerent posture relaxed, and she shook her head.

“At the very least, wrap it in brown paper next time, will you? Nearly gave me a heart attack.”

“Tell you what,” Mac said, standing up and coming close to place her hands on Leigh’s arms. “I’ll make breakfast, and I’ll run that in to the surgery after.” At Leigh’s nod, Mac rose up to kiss her, a sweetly thorough meeting of lips.

“Mmm,” Leigh said. “Well, maybe not _right_ after.” Her smile, when her eyes opened, was slightly wicked. “You have to apologize properly first.”

Mac laughed, low and warm. “You’re absolutely right. I’ll do my best to make it up to you.”

“See that you do.” With a squeeze to Mac’s bottom—when had Leigh’s hands gone there?—Leigh moved past her to pick up her book and settle in. “I’ll have bacon and eggs please,” she informed Mac, her eyes twinkling.

Mac laughed, a joyous sound that Leigh never tired of. “I’ll get right on it.”


	3. Things you said when I was crying (Jack/Concetta)

_Prompt from gaslightgallows_

He was a little drunk, she knew. He’d come to the restaurant tonight with a hurt that cut him deeply—she’d been able to see it on his face, that he’d realized something that was exquisitely painful. So she’d plied him with good food and wine, and she sat close beside him, speaking in a quiet voice.

“It will be all right, Gianni, whatever it is,” she reached out to lay a hand on his arm, and found herself thrilled when he’d covered it with his own.

“You are a good woman, Concetta,” he said, his head hanging low.

“Will you stay tonight?” She amazed herself with her temerity.

“Will I…” He looked up at her, confusion in his eyes.

“Stay with me? Let me comfort you?” She cupped his cheek with her hand, turning his face to hers. Searching his eyes, she leaned in and laid her lips softly on his.

He hesitated a moment and then kissed her back, his mouth warm and sweet on hers. She’d never had a man kiss her with her pleasure in mind, and she found herself drawn in. She’d suggested he stay with her as much to try and lure him nearer as out of any real desire. Her husband had seen to it that the sexual act wasn’t one she was eager to repeat, but with her grandfather making noises about marrying her off to Roberto Salvatore, she’d much prefer a husband of her own choosing, and Gianni was a very good man.

So she broke the kiss and took him by the hand to lead him to her bed. Perhaps he’d see that she would make him a fine wife.

When he brought her to the first climax of her life, however, she couldn’t help the tears that flowed. Her husband, who’d promised to love and cherish her, had never once in nine years of marriage cared as much about her pleasure as Jack had in this first encounter.

When he felt her tears, Jack had stilled against her and raised his head.

“Are you all right?”

His soft voice and his concern had brought the tears even harder. She nodded frantically, unable to speak.

“Should I stop?”

She shook her head this time, clutching him close with her arms and legs wrapped around him.

“Ssssh, then,” he said, his big hands stroking her hair. He kissed her tenderly, his hips beginning to rock against her again, and she pulled him as close as she could manage, feeling the pleasure rise.

When it was over, Concetta tried to apologize. Jack shook his head, holding her close as he stroked her back.

“You have nothing to apologize for. I’m just happy to give you pleasure. You deserve it.”

He was right, she realized. She did.


	4. Things you said with no space between us (author’s choice)

_Prompt from penaltywaltz_

…I’m gonna have to go Phrack for this one.

* * *

“Well, this is a fine mess.” Jack surveyed the ropes binding himself and Miss Fisher together. They’d been situated sitting back to back, and the ropes wrapped around their torsos pressed them together from tailbones to shoulders. Jack could feel the flexing of the muscles in her upper arms—the ropes stopped at their elbows—and he pressed his hands to the floor.

“It is a bit of a setback, I’ll admit. But not so bad, surely? At least we’re together.” Phryne chuckled a little. “And our arms are only half-secured. Criminals these days. No idea how to do the thing properly.”

He could hear her rustling about behind him. Their ankles were tied, and they’d been left on the floor. Perhaps if they could stand, they could find something to cut the ropes with?

“What are you talking about, Miss Fisher?”

“Hmm?” He felt her lean forward, pulling him with her. “Oh. Only that when we get out of here, we’ll actually be inside their headquarters. Should be easy to call in the cavalry.”

“You’ve overlooked one important detail: First, we have to get out of here.” He craned his neck, trying to see what she was up to, but the swing of her black hair blocked his view.

“Of course I haven’t, Jack—” she was moving back and forth in a… sawing motion? “—Aha!” Suddenly, the tension on the ropes around them broke. Jack began to wiggle his arms and shoulders, shedding the now-loose coils.

“How did you…” Turning to face her, he saw her using the small, pearl-handled knife that he’d seen her pull more than once from her garter to cut through the ropes at her ankles. When she was free, she turned to do the same to his. He shook his head and smiled at her.

“You are a wonder, Miss Fisher.” His deep voice was soft as he took her in. Even disheveled and dirty, she was beautiful. He was glad that these criminals hadn’t thought (yet) to abuse her. She flashed her brightest smile at him, her hand on his ankle sending warmth all the way up to his chest.

“Well, if I had to be tied to someone, Jack, I’m glad it was you.” Her eyes shining with excitement over what would be happening next, she leaned in and laid a quick kiss on his mouth.

Stunned by both her words and her actions, Jack grasped the hands she held out to him and let her help him up.

“Now,” she said, giving him a broad grin, “let’s go finish this.”

“Wait.” Jack, his hands still holding hers, reeled her in. The kiss he gave her was quick, but it wasn’t hurried. He took the moment to truly taste her, his tongue dipping between her lips, his hand rising to cup the back of her head. When they broke apart, their eyes slowly opening, both of them were breathing heavily, and Phryne’s insouciant grin had been replaced by a pleased, if somewhat shocked, awareness.

“Now,” he growled, “let’s go finish them so that you and I can discuss this further.”

Phryne’s smile returned slowly, but brighter than before.

“I think that’s an excellent idea, Inspector.”

When she turned to leave the room, he followed, his own smile small. If he had to be tied to someone, he had to admit, she’d be his first choice.


	5. Things you said at 1 am (Concetta/Owen)

_Prompt from gaslightgallows_

Note: Owen is an OC of mine who was introduced in [All Sorrows Are Less With Bread](http://archiveofourown.org/works/6636124).

* * *

Concetta came awake with a start. Had that been the baby she heard? Raising her head from the pillow, she listened closely. Yes, she thought it was. She turned to look at her husband, but his side of the bed was empty. Confused, she got up and drew on her robe, making her way across the hall to the nursery.

She could hear Owen’s voice as she came close, and she stopped in the doorway to look inside. Her husband was walking back and forth in front of their son’s cot, murmuring in Sebastian’s ear as the baby grizzled sleepily.

“Hush, little man,” Owen crooned, “your mama’s sleeping, and you should be too. It’s far too early for all of this fussing.” The sight of Owen’s bright red hair next to their son’s darker auburn thrilled Concetta, as did Owen’s large hand spreading protectively over Sebastian’s back. She was pretty certain that Sebastian would need to nurse, so Owen’s attempt to let her sleep was a lovely sentiment, but unlikely to have worked.

“Your mama needs her sleep, Bastian,” Owen went on, stroking the baby’s back and head. “She has work tomorrow, for the first time in weeks. You’ll have to share her with the customers, my man. But all of the church ladies will want to smother you with kisses, I’m sure. Don’t worry—they’re not so bad.” The tone of his voice was light and quiet. “And if you keep your mama awake all night, how will she have any energy to entertain me after you go to bed?”

Concetta snickered, and Owen turned to look at her, his gray eyes dancing with humor.

“You knew that I was here,” she accused softly, moving into the room to take the baby.

“Well, yes,” he admitted. “It was rather a false hope that he’d go back to sleep, and you have mother ears. But it was worth a try.” He followed her to the sofa set against the wall opposite the cot and sat down; she sat with him, leaning against his warm chest as she put the baby to her breast.

“Thank you for trying,” she said softly, turning to kiss him once Sebastian was busily nursing.

“Mm, you’re welcome. And this—I like this.” He reached around to brush the backs of his fingers across the baby’s warm cheek, fascinated as always by the way his tiny mouth worked to draw the milk from her body and the sight of those small hands starfished against her skin.

“I love you,” she whispered against his neck.

“ _Ti amo_ , Concetta,” he whispered back. “And _ti amo_ , Sebastian.” He dropped a kiss on her forehead. “I love our life.”


	6. Things you didn’t say at all (Phryne/Jack)

_Prompt from missingmissfisher_

_I love you._ Jack thought the words as he watched Phryne rage at Dr Spall in the interview room. He was furious with her for barging in, but more furious with himself that he couldn’t put this feeling aside.

 _I miss you_. Phryne thought as she watched Jack walk away from her throughout the investigation, even as she tried everything she could think of to draw him back.

 _I love you._ Jack thought again as he watched her take control of her friend’s movie set, proving once again that there was nothing she couldn’t do.

 _I love this._ Phryne thought, as she worked side by side with Jack to suss out the murderer and clear her friend.

 _I love you._ Jack thought when he arrived at Maiden Creek to find Phryne frantically trying to preserve evidence in a murder case and being stonewalled at every turn.

 _I need you._ Phryne thought, her heart lifting and her fear abating when Jack drove into town. She knew that with him there, it would be all right.

 _I love you._ Jack thought as he asked Phryne to take the lead on the investigation into Louisa Singleton’s murder. He knew that he could count on her to help Hugh find the answers they needed.

 _I want you._ Phryne thought as her eyes raked over Jack’s less-than-formal attire. She’d never seen him so casually dressed, and he was even more devilishly attractive than usual for it.

 _I love you._ Jack thought when his heart dropped into his stomach at the thought that Phryne had been captured by the slavers that manned the Pandarus. Every footstep of his frantic run through the ship repeated the words inside his head.

 _I love you._ Phryne thought as she watched him embrace his ex-wife; he was probably better off with a woman who was more traditional than she was, but it still hurt her to see them together. “She needed _you_. Jack Robinson. The man who always does the right thing.” She would let him go if that was what he wanted.

 _I want you._ “Not always, Miss Fisher.” His rumbly voice stroked her skin; she saw him reach out to pull her close, and the feel of his lips on hers was bliss.

_I want us._


	7. Things you said when you thought I was asleep (Jack/Rosie)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Angst ahead - fair warning!

_Prompt from gaslightgallows_

“I can’t do this anymore.” Rosie’s eyes welled with tears as she looked down at Jack, who appeared to be sleeping peacefully, sated. They’d both climaxed, and their bodies were loose and satisfied, but it had been as if they were strangers, concentrating on the mechanics rather than connecting the way they had before the war.

“I can’t be the woman I was before you left, and I can’t reach the man you’ve become.” Her whisper was no louder than a breath, but she felt it ring inside her body like a death knell. The death of their marriage.

“I’m so unhappy.” She closed her eyes, wishing that the words weren’t true. Wishing that they could recapture who they’d been before he’d left for war—that carefree young couple who couldn’t wait to spend every possible moment together was gone forever, it seemed. Now they sat in silence, or they tried to get closer through sex.

“I want a divorce.” The tears in her eyes spilled over and she laid back on the bed, covering her face with her hands. Her soft sobs carried no further than her words had. When she’d exhausted herself, she rolled away from him, her breaths shuddering softly in her chest. She almost didn’t hear him.

“That might be for the best.”


	8. Things you said when you were drunk (Phryne, Mac and Jack)

_Prompt from whopooh_

Phryne surveyed her parlor through eyes that were having trouble focusing. Mac sat low in one of the armchairs, her legs looped over one arm and one foot bobbing. She’d removed her jacket and sat in her shirtsleeves, her deep green waistcoat a pleasing complement to the teal walls and golden upholstery.

Mac’s whiskey glass was almost empty, Phryne saw, and glanced down at her own. Also almost empty. That would never do. She grunted softly as she levered herself upright, leaving the warm pillow of Jack’s chest. He let out a murmur of protest.

“Be right back,” Phryne said, stroking a hand down his arm as she stood, her knees a little wobbly. She set her glass on the table and made her way to the sideboard, placing each foot carefully. She was glad that she’d kicked off her shoes—heels would be difficult to manage in her current state. She ran her fingers over all of the cut-glass bottles that sparkled even in the low light of the room, murmuring “pretty,” before lifting the whiskey decanter, now only half full, from among them.

Turning, she held the decanter up for Jack and Mac’s approval, then moved to splash another (rather large) serving into Mac’s glass.

“What is this, Phryne? Are you trying to get me drunk?” Mac’s words were sardonic, but her eyes twinkled with good humor as she raised her eyebrows at the two inches of alcohol her glass now held.

“Whoops?” Phryne grinned, licking her fingers where the whiskey had splashed over them. “You’re planning to stay the night anyway, aren’t you Mac?”

“I suppose I can manage the stairs better than the trip home,” Mac responded, taking a swallow of her drink.

Phryne moved back to sit between Jack’s legs where he’d spread them for her. Turning, she narrowed her eyes in concentration as she poured him a more careful refill.

“What’s this?” Jack said, his tone humorously petulant. “Mac gets more than me?”

“Darling, are you staying the night as well, then?” Phryne’s purr was accompanied by a wicked smile as she tilted the decanter again, filling his glass a bit more before turning to pour herself a healthy draft.

“If you insist, Miss Fisher,” he teased, running a hand down her back as she bent to set the decanter on the table and lift her own glass. She hummed her pleasure at the touch and nestled back into him, her back against his chest. Lifting her face to his, she reveled in the sweetness of the kiss he dropped on her lips.

“Oh come now, you two,” Mac’s voice was testy, but when Phryne and Jack raised their heads to look at her, she was smiling.

“What?” Phryne grinned over her whiskey glass as Jack lowered his arm from the back of the chaise to enfold her.

“You’re rather nauseatingly happy, that’s all,” Mac replied, shaking her head. She regarded them quietly, a smile flirting with the corners of her mouth. “I’m getting rather jealous.”

“Mac…” Phryne’s smile slipped away, and she sat up as if she’d go to her friend.

“No, don’t,” Mac said, shaking her head, her smile growing. “I’m just being maudlin. It’s your fault, giving me all of this alcohol.”

“You’ll find someone, Mac,” Phryne said softly, relaxing back against Jack again. “Any woman would be lucky to get you.”

Mac raised her eyebrows and shot a look at Jack.

“It’s true,” he rumbled. “You’re a doctor, for god’s sake. A prime catch.” He lifted his glass to toast her, and smirked when she snorted.

“Yes, well,” Mac took a sip of her whiskey, “I guess I’ll have to make do with second-hand snogging until I find a someone who’s fishing for one such as me.”

“Let us know if you’d like us to put on more of a show,” Phryne’s sly tone made Jack sputter and Mac shout with laughter at his reddening cheeks.

Chuckling, Mac toasted them both. “I’ll keep that in mind.”


End file.
